The Dish: An Angsty Seiftis
by Gold
Summary: FINAL FOUR CHAPTERS UP. A recipe for an angsty Seiftis. What is needed? One brooding Seifer...brooding over Rinoa. One heartbroken Quistis...but not heartbroken over Squall. Over who, then? And much, much more...
1. One Brooding Seifer

© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (E-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

Well, I was bored, so I came up with this. If it works (I already have seven parts completed), then there'll be more dishes coming along. For now, enjoy the Angsty Seiftis.

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Ingredient One: One Brooding Seifer

The room was dark, the only light coming from the silvery rays of the graceful crescent that sailed high and proud in the dark sky. The rays stole in through the open window, framed by curtains that looked a haunting white in the dim light. The tiny red glow at the end of his cigarette stood out amidst the grey smoke he puffed without much pleasure. His eyes, a jewelled ocean green in the moonlight, were narrowed in protection against the cool early morning breeze that blew into his face and ruffled the hair standing every-which-way on his head. He was bare-bodied and the coolness in the air sent pleasant goose bumps rising softly on his skin.

He rarely smoked, but sometimes, when the world sat heavily on his shoulders, particularly in the wee hours of the morning, he would light a cigarette and inhale the smoke for a false, illusionary sense of peace, the cloud of smoke obscuring the painful memories that sped through his mind. At four o'clock in the morning, everything you most wanted to be cast away and obliterated by sands of time emerged fresh in your memory with a vengeance, as if telling you that the stains of your past would always be there, no matter what you did to try to ease the pain and no matter how much you regretted and repented your actions.  

A small movement in the corner caught his eye, and he turned. She was sitting up in his bed, her cool blue eyes still scrunched up with sleep, long lashes dusting satin skin, and golden hair spilling across her slender shoulders and curling in soft waves that framed her face. In the soft darkness of the room, with the moonlight drifting in lazy trails across the shadows, she was startlingly lovely, a golden goddess with a vulnerability and purity untouched by the prosaic surroundings.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, blue eyes now fully open and resting quietly on him.

Without a word, she slipped from the bed and stumbled to the door, exhaustion in every line of her figure. Her clothes were rumpled from sleeping in them, and gave her a simple, natural look that was very appealing. At the door, she stopped, and spoke again, her voice still in a whisper, for whispers carry in the dead of the night when nothing else will.

"The…report?" 

His voice was quiet and monotonous, his face turned away from her. Unlike her, he did not whisper although his voice was low enough. " You needn't worry. I've filed it."

He did not see her face—could not, in any case, for the shadows hid it from view. There was a long pause.

"Thank you."

One last whisper, and then she slipped out, silent as a ghost, and the door shut softly behind her. Still he did not turn, but although his face was open to the moonlight, his thoughts shifted briefly to rest on the girl who had just left him. 


	2. One Heartbroken Quistis

© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (e-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

This story is a different approach. Forewarned is forearmed: ponderous style ahead.

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Ingredient Two: One Heartbroken Quistis

Nervously, she stared at her mobile phone and shot hopeful glances at her answering machine from time to time. When would he call? Would he call? She had loved him since the first day they met, but child that she was, she only knew that she could not show especial feeling for him—she must treat him as she treated the others. It would be years before they met again, and during those years, she had forgotten him, but when she saw him for the first time in Garden, she loved him yet again. As his teacher, his instructor, she could not show any favouritism towards him. Instead, she became cold and almost scornful towards him, and appeared to favour his greatest rival. In return, she earned his contempt, his hatred, his anger and his derision. If it hurt, she never showed it. It was not her nature to do so. And now, after his return, the best she had from him was a careless nod and a casual greeting, which he could not help, especially as she had been ordered to instruct him into SeeD, and to partner him on almost all his missions.

He loved her best friend, a beautiful, wonderful girl who, unfortunately, belonged heart, soul and eternity to another. She was a sorceress, dark-haired and sweet-natured, one half of Garden's golden couple. He and she—they used to date, a long time ago, and nobody knew much else of their history together. She fell in love with another, and he was lost elsewhere. When he returned, and saw that she was with someone else, he withdrew into himself—not emotionless, but cold, cutting and brooding. He spoke sometimes about her, but not always. Something in him had closed and shut forever with the loss of his innocence, but it would open if only the girl he loved came back to him.

But she was not the girl he loved.

They had called her for a mission, a long one that would take her two weeks. She dreaded it—she had never been away from him for so long and inside her was that eternal fear that he would drift away to someone else in her absence. What little power she exerted over him was fragile. Hyne knew there were enough within and without Garden who would be willing enough to take her place. So she had tried to call him. She wanted to beg him to wait for her…a futile exercise, as she well knew, for he would not understand what she meant. She wanted to beg him and to hurl herself into his arms—wanted him to hold her as if he would protect her from everything—as she had held him so many times before, promising herself that she would guard him with her life and that she would bleed to death for him if she had to.  

The clock struck eleven and still she waited, with little hope. When would he return her calls? Was he deliberately avoiding her? Yes—that must be it. She meant nothing to him. If she died, he would not miss her, because he cared nothing for her. Her soft mouth trembled, and she stilled it, but her eyes were pools of hurt. The clock struck half-past and slowly, she rose to her feet. Her mission was calling her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It took three weeks.

She stepped out of the elevator, her heart thumping terribly. When would she see him? The mission was a success—but when would she see him? Three weeks—she had missed him terribly, his absence gnawing at her so badly that she had had little rest. The Headmaster was very pleased with the results and she had been paid well—but oh, when would she see him? Ah—there he was—and the brightness that touched her face was blotted out in an instant when she saw the easy intimacy between him and the pretty girl in his arms. Something deep inside her tore apart, and then shattered over and over again, like the sound of a heart broken a thousand times over—

"Quistis! You're back! How was the mission? I heard that it went well! I'm so glad."

She turned her back on him slowly, a lovely smile carefully pasted across her face, to greet the pretty, laughing face of her best friend, Rinoa Heartlilly. 

Behind her, he turned as he heard her name, and watched her, his face unreadable, as she passed out of his sight.


	3. One Suicide Mission

© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (e-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Part Three: One Suicide Mission 

Quistis Trepe listened silently, almost drearily. All her life, she thought listlessly, she had given everything she could for others. And now, when her life seemed to have lost all direction, and she had little to live for, an opportunity presented itself. It beckoned, and it was as good as being told that this was what she had to do, her final contribution. She set her teeth, opened her mouth and said the fatal words.

"I'd like to take this mission, sir."

Squall Leonhart turned his head incredulously. He stared at his second-in-command, but she did not look at him. Her back was straight and her profile, determined.

"Quistis," began Cid, his voice quiet, "this is a suicide mission—"

"Yes, sir." Quistis' face was calm—too calm, thought Squall, alarm rising in him for no particular reason he could fathom. "I understand that, sir. That's why I'm best suited for this mission." She paused for a moment, then continued speaking, lucidly and reasonably. "Sir, only seven people at Garden are capable of carrying out this mission and returning alive: SeeDs Almasy, Dincht, Heartlilly, Kinneas, Tilmitt, the Commander and myself."

Cid frowned and adjusted his glasses, peering at her as if trying to guess what she might say next. "And?"

"Sir, this being a suicide mission, the SeeD who goes may never return." Quistis' face was deadly serious. There was no doubt that she understood the gravity of the situation. "Headmaster, I am the only one of the SeeDs who can and should go. Five of these SeeDs are attached—they carry heavy emotional baggage and it would also be extremely unfair to their loved ones."

"And these SeeDs would be…?" Cid raised an eyebrow.

"The Commander and SeeDs Dincht, Heartlilly, Kinneas and Tilmitt," Quistis responded promptly. "In addition, SeeDs Dincht and Heartlilly also have parents who cannot lose them. And—as for SeeD Almasy—" Quistis' face became a little graver—"sir, Mrs Kramer loves him best of all of us. They have both suffered much and it would not be fair to send him away. It would break Matron's heart." She swallowed and set her jaw grimly. "Headmaster, sending me would be the best option. I have the requisite abilities and experience, and I am the one with the least emotional ties. I am an orphan, sir, and I have no blood kin, and—" she clenched her fists—"there is no one whom I have formed an attachment to, or who has formed any such attachment to me."

Cid was silent for a long time. Finally, he looked at Squall. "Commander, I'd like to hear your views."

Squall struggled for words. He knew it was wrong to let Quistis go, but he couldn't think of a good reason not to let her go. Every instinct told him that she should not be allowed—but his mind pointed out that Quistis' logic was perfectly sound. "Quistis," he managed to say, his emotionless expression betrayed only by the slight twitching of his eyebrows, "you do have people who care—we're your friends, remember? We—" He stopped, lost for words.

Quistis gave him a small smile. "But you see, Squall," she said gently, "of all of us, I will be missed the least—dispensable, as it were. Garden and Rinoa cannot do without you, and you can't do without Rinoa. Irvine and Selphie are practically engaged, and Zell has Ma Dincht and his girlfriend to worry about. And you know Matron loves Seifer best of us all. She has been through enough. For me, I have no family and nobody who cares for me like that. So you see—" Quistis' blue eyes were very wide and sensible—"there's just me." She looked from Squall to the Headmaster. "These people _have_ to be stopped."      

Squall didn't know what to say. It was unthinkable if—if she—should never—come back. He opened his mouth—tried to say no—

"Promise you'll come back to us," he croaked.

Quistis' brain sifted through his words, trying to spot a flaw. She smiled a small smile. "I will," she said casually. _Even if it has to be in a body bag._


	4. One Farewell

© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (e-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

This is an angst-ridden fic. It hurts in every chapter. I've been writing Sailor Moon AR romance for some time now and a friend informed me that I could write angst decently. Hence this little experiment of mine.  After that, I think I will do another dish—A Most Unusual Seiftis. ^_^

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Part Four: One Farewell 

"Good morning," said Quistis as she sat down. She took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of the steaming cup of coffee in front of her. 

"Hello, Quistis." Opposite Quistis, Rinoa Heartlilly scrutinised one of her best friends closely, a warm smile on her face. "You're looking quite relaxed today. What's the occasion? Something wonderful happened to you?"

Squall choked on his coffee and Rinoa thumped him on the back. "Are you all right?" she asked anxiously.

He nodded wordlessly.               

"She _should_ be relaxed, she's going on a vacation today," remarked Irvine Kinneas. "A nice, three-month long vacation." He whistled. "What wouldn't I give for a long break like that!" 

Rinoa slapped her forehead. "Oh, I forgot! You haven't mentioned it much, Quistis, and you haven't told us where you're going either."

Selphie Tilmitt wagged her finger at Quistis. "Wherever you're going, send postcards. And buy us gifts!"            

Squall choked again, this time on the bacon.

"Hey, you all right?" Zell Dincht paused midway through several hot dog, an eyebrow arched in surprise. "You're eating too fast, man, you keep on choking."

Quistis cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, I can't send postcards," she said gently. "I'd like to be on a real vacation for once, with no one knowing where I am…" Her voice was oddly wistful. "But I'll buy gifts for everyone, I promise."

"See that you do," Squall said emotionlessly. "And, uh, be careful." He stabbed a bit of bacon so viciously that it flew off his plate.

"Hey, there's Seifer! Hi, Seifer!" called Selphie suddenly, waving and nearly knocking Irvine's hat off.

The tall blond man stalked to their table. He stopped directly by Quistis and looked down at her, forgetting Rinoa for the first time. "Heard you were going on holiday," he said abruptly. "A bunch of those Trepies are weeping somewhere at the thought of your absence."

She lifted her head, looking at him, right into his face. It was the first time in months that she had looked him in the eyes. Her blue eyes were very grave and something in them cut straight into his heart. He froze. What was it he saw in her eyes that frightened him so?

"Yes, I am," she answered quietly.

"Where to?" he demanded brusquely, still shaken from the strange gravity of her countenance.

"I'm not sure. I think I'll do a trip round the world…unconfirmed plans," she answered quietly.

"Three months—is—a long time." He knew that there was something he was missing, but he could not put his finger on it. He wondered, very briefly, what it would feel like without seeing her every day. 

She smiled faintly. "I want to be alone for a while, re-charge my batteries and all that."

"You told me once that you hated being alone." For some reason, he needed to know why she was going away. If it had to be so, he'd push until he got answers from her. She would answer him. She never failed him.

Quistis carefully sipped her coffee. "No, I said I hated being lonely." She did not look at him.

 "Don't play and hide behind semantics, Trepe," he snarled harshly, then found himself regretting his harshness, but it was too late.

Colour had flared painfully in her cheek, as if he had cruelly sliced into her with his gunblade. She was on her feet so quickly that it startled him. "I hate being lonely," she said, her voice still retaining that calm, quiet, almost unnatural quality. "I like having a little time _alone_ to myself." She took up her tray of uneaten breakfast. "If you wanted my seat, you could just have asked nicely." She walked away, dumping her breakfast before she left the cafeteria altogether.

"Seifer."

Seifer turned.

"You have a habit of putting your foot in your mouth," stated Squall, standing up. "Leave her alone."

Seifer's eyes flashed and narrowed. "I'm betting you know more about this vacation than we do," he snapped.

"Naturally." Squall shrugged. "I'm taking over her classes."

Seifer gave a snort of laughter. "You, teach? I have to see that." Abruptly he whirled and left, stalking away. Evidently he too was not going to have any breakfast.

Squall sat down and returned to his breakfast, which he tried very hard to eat, without much success. 

Selphie, meanwhile, was looking thoughtfully in Seifer's direction. _How very odd. He completely ignored Rinoa._

Irvine nudged her. "Selph? What's the matter?"

Selphie turned back to him. "Oh, nothing." She smiled at him. "It was just a bad feeling I had, but it's gone now."

"Well, if anything's the matter, and it's worrying you, you just tell me, okay?" He smiled tenderly back at her.

She slipped her arm in his. "Okay." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gold: Ah, deception all round…


	5. One Unexpected Eavesdropper

© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (e-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

Well! The threats I've been receiving! ^_^ Life goes on…

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Part Five: One Unexpected Eavesdropper

Squall paced his office restlessly. Teaching was a thankless, torrid task, and to take on five classes—who in Hyne's name had wished such an impossible mission on Instructor Quistis Trepe? But that was really beside the question. The fact of the matter was, Quistis' reports had not come in for thirty-six hours straight and he was very worried. She had promised to report every twenty-four hours and Quistis had kept her word, at least until a day and a half ago. She had managed to gain more than a foothold now, having spent about two months there, and she had increasingly important information to impart. So far, ten SeeDs had already died at their hands and Squall did not want Quistis and her partner from Galbadia to be numbers ten and twelve.

Squall stared down at his desk. The trouble with suicide missions was that they were usually top secret. That way, if there were casualties, it would simply be assumed that it was the usual thing. After all, considering that every mission had the propensity for casualties, it would appear that every mission was a suicide mission. But suicide missions—the real, classified ones—were suicide because of the high-level risk and skill involved. Since not all of them were undertaken for purely monetary reasons, thus contradicting Garden's official policy, they had to be classified. Usually no more than two high-ranking SeeDs were sent out—Garden could not afford to lose more than two on any suicide mission. Frankly, it couldn't afford any casualties, but sometimes things could not be helped. This was one of those unhappy occasions.

The private line on his desk rang. Squall snatched it up. "Commander speaking."

Cid's voice was grave. "Any news yet, Commander?"

"No, sir." Squall's shoulders slumped.

There was a brief silence. "Mission status?"

"Unstable, sir. There's reason to believe that the mission may be in jeopardy."

"I see."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Request permission to lead a team to investigate."

"Permission denied."

"Sir, the situation may be escalating and—"

"Exactly, Commander. This is a suicide mission for a good reason. Our sudden appearance may cause the situation to escalate to levels beyond our control and put Quistis and Hans in grave danger by exposing their identities."

"Sir, this is a suicide mission, but if Quistis is in danger—oh, Hyne—" Squall choked, his eyes widening as the facsimile machine nearby started spitting paper. "Her report is in, sir."

"Bring it over at once."

The door to his office blew open just as he hung up. 

"_Leonhart__!_" Seifer Almasy burst into the room, his eyes wild. 

"Almasy," muttered Squall. He could feel a huge migraine coming on.

Seifer leaned over Squall, his hands on the desk, breathing furiously, his face scarlet with rage. "You sent _Quistis_ on a _suicide mission_?!"

Squall's eyes narrowed. "You were listening at the door." He debated giving the secretary a good talking-to, but realised that no secretary could have stopped Seifer in his tracks.

"Never mind that! You _shouldn't_ have let her go!" exploded Seifer, seizing Squall by the collar. "How _could_ you?!"

Squall jerked himself free. "Shut up, Almasy. She volunteered. You know nothing." He ignored the guilt digging hooks in his heart.

"No, _you_ know nothing!" hissed Seifer. "Quistis would volunteer for anything if she thought it was her duty to do so! She'd sacrifice herself for anyone—for anything! You know that! Leonhart, what were you and that bloody idiot of a headmaster thinking by letting her go?" Seifer paused for breath, then went on harshly. "If she—if anything happens to her, _anything_ at all, Leonhart, I'll kill you if that's the last thing I do!" He whirled and stormed away, but Squall called him back.

"I'm going to Headmaster with her latest report."

Seifer turned back, green eyes blazing as they met Squall's blue-grey eyes. They stared at each other silently for a moment. Then Squall walked over to join Seifer. Together, side by side, they headed for the Headmaster's office.

Cid was surprised to see them entering at the same time and, needless to say, none too happy that Seifer had learned the truth.

"I will not," repeated Cid stolidly, "send more than one top-level SeeD on this mission. Besides, she is not alone. Esthar has a high-ranked SeeD with her." 

Seifer gnashed his teeth. Squall was silent. 

"There is no due necessity to send out another team. Mission has not approached critical status at all," went on Cid, warming to his theme. "If anything is wrong, Quistis will send a signal."

Seifer sneered. "Don't tell me she'll fire a rocket!" His green eyes flashed. "Know what I think? I think where she is, she won't be able to send a distress signal—and when she does, it'll be—too late." His face went white as he said those words. 

Squall cleared his throat. "Based on her report, sir, Garden will have to send more teams of SeeDs quickly. We might as well start right away." 

Cid opened his mouth to say something, but the telephone on his desk rang and he snatched up the receiver. As he listened, his face changed. Squall and Seifer exchanged glances as Cid slammed down the receiver, his face grim. His eyes were sharp and flinty behind his thick glasses.

"Commander, the situation has changed. That was Esthar Garden on the line. As of twenty minutes ago, Esthar suffered no less than eight railway derailments. Three of its major cities, including the capital, have had communications cut off and are unreachable. One of them is Esthar's ammunitions supply headquarters, which contains a number of chemical bombs that could blow Esthar to smithereens and pollute the atmosphere stretching up to a thousand kilometres all round. Timber reports that certain forces have tried to stir up trouble against Garden in its capital, but are presently under control. And—about Quistis—" Cid stopped.

Seifer knew the answer before Cid finished speaking, and he sprang to his feet. "_NO_!" he snarled, his voice strangely hoarse.  

"She's trapped in Esthar," confirmed Cid sadly. "President Laguna Loire of Esthar has disappeared, presumably kidnapped or held hostage." He shot a sympathetic glance at Squall's half-stunned, half-disbelieving face. "Esthar Garden has sent three teams of SeeDs—they need the rest for defence. Galbadia Garden is sending two teams. Trabia is sending a team to help as well. Commander, I want three teams sent out. Join forces with the other Gardens and get back control of the ammunitions headquarters. I want those three teams ready at once!"

Squall gathered what was left of his wits. He rose and saluted, ever the Commander. He turned slowly to face Seifer, who was staring dazedly at Cid's desk, and spoke, his voice filled with a grim determination. "Almasy. You're my second-in-command on this mission."

Seifer faced him. He nodded.

Together, the two most brilliant students Quistis Trepe had ever taught marched out of the office of the Headmaster of Balamb Garden to save their former teacher.


	6. One Moment Of Contemplation And Denial

© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (e-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

Okay…uh, I won't be updating things as regularly as school has started for me and I'll be very, very busy.

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Part 6: One Moment of Contemplation and Denial

Squall Leonhart sat silently while Selphie piloted the Ragnarok with unusual steadiness and closed lips. She said not a word to him. Behind them, Seifer had gripped his gunblade in both hands although the battle wasn't in sight yet, and his face was strained and tensed. Squall glanced curiously at him, but said nothing.  

It was a long time before Seifer spoke, and his voice was soft, carrying only to Squall and Selphie. "Why did she volunteer to go?"

Squall waited a little while before answering. "She said she was the only one of us who should go."

"Why?"

Squall stared at nothing in particular. "She said Matron loved you best and it would break her heart if you went. The rest of us had someone to love them and she had nobody to love her, so her death would be—would be least felt."

Seifer turned his face away.

From the controls, Selphie's clear voice rang out. "Do you love her, Seifer?"

The silence was long and heavy.

"No." 

There was another silence. There didn't seem to be anything else to say.

"But I—owe her—too much."

He owed her seven months of his life. 

He owed her for teaching him twice in his lifetime. 

He owed her for showing him the meaning of honour.

He owed her for turning on her during the Ultimecia wars. 

He owed her for bringing him down and ending it all.

He owed her for sticking with him when she could have chosen to abandon him. 

He owed her for bringing Fujin and Raijin back to Garden. 

He owed her for picking the pieces up every time he deliberately lost himself. 

He owed her for allowing him to walk away from her without a word of thanks. 

Seifer Almasy owed Quistis Trepe, and he always paid his debts. 

"And yet you don't love her?" questioned Selphie from the controls.

"No," he answered, believing it himself. What he felt for her was nothing like the way he felt for Rinoa.

Squall frowned. Whatever Selphie was driving at, it wasn't helping matters. "How soon until we land, Selphie?"

"Half an hour more, Commander," replied Selphie in flat, formal tones.

Squall did not wince. He had trained himself too well for that. But—Selphie's anger hurt him, even though she had every right to be angry. After all, he had sent Quistis on a suicide mission. Rinoa had screamed all manner of obscenities at him after learning the truth, and then refused to speak to him, particularly after he had not chosen her for the SeeD teams being sent out. Zell had been so angry that he had roared with rage and then punched him, and Irvine's look of disappointment said more than words could. A chill ran through Squall as he remembered what Rinoa had said. If Quistis died—then he had sent her to her death. 

Seifer, quietly looking at the floor, was thinking of Quistis. He did not say anything, nor did his face reveal anything, but his heart was twisting in fear. He was strangely afraid. What if they could not reach her in time? What if it was already too late by the time they arrived? What if he couldn't save her, despite everything? He would never see her walk down Garden's hallowed corridors again. He would no longer see her face, hear her voice…he would never see her again. The last thought shook him with the force of an avalanche and he gritted his teeth, his hands tightening on his gunblade. They would not fail—_he_ would not fail. Come hell or high water, he would find her and bring her back _alive_ or die in the process.

He could not lose her.


	7. One Sacrifice

© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (e-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

Warning: A story is never completed until the last word has been written. There are at least two chapters more of angst.

Quistis doesn't realise people care about her, because of her emotional insecurity. She sometimes feels she isn't worth caring about—and that also makes her feel that people don't love her very much. She's wrong—people do care about her—but at the same time, her friends don't realise that vulnerability in her character because she always seems so strong and intelligent.

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Part 7: One Sacrifice

Her mind dizzy with agony, Quistis Trepe's head lolled back weakly against the wall. She hoped that Han had managed to escape. The bonds that bound her were loosening, but she had almost no strength left. She tried to cough and nearly choked on the blood that filled her mouth and trickled slowly over her lips and down her chin, sliding down the line of her neck to stain her clothes. She could barely take slower breaths to ease the frantic anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her. And oh, the pain! She had been there for the past two hours, and had endured lashing blows from the whip as well as certain other tortures at intervals for the past hour, after her interrogator found that neither truth serum nor threats moved Quistis. If she had not been SeeD-trained, she would have been dead by now, but she was both physically and mentally stronger than the ordinary person. The tall, lean woman in the corner eyed her angrily, and cracked her whip threateningly.

"Do you want a taste of this again—" She paused and frowned. "Who's there?" she called sharply. "Is that you, Mop? What took you and the others so long?"

Sudden lights blazed into the place through the glass skylights above, their brilliance nearly blinding the woman, who stumbled back, shielding her eyes from the bright lights. Glass showered down in glittering fragments as uniformed SeeDs shattered the skylights, plunging through on rope harnesses to land firmly in the room, their weapons ready as they secured the area.

They quickly spotted the bloodied woman tied to one of the pillars.

"Stop!" declared a stentorian voice. From behind the blood-drenched body stepped out a woman, the one who had been whipping Quistis, if the SeeDs had but known it. "Who are you?"

"Who are _you_?" shot back one SeeD, a tall, handsome blond man with deep green eyes that had the bitter, pained look of the mortally wounded in their depths.  

The woman eyed him narrowly; then her face changed. "You're SeeD!" 

"Don't move," snarled the blond man as he aimed his gunblade at her. 

The bloodied body tied to the pillar stirred; the head, matted with blood, tilted towards the light and faced them. It was a beautiful, beloved face, although blood and swollen cuts wrecked its loveliness and the sight of it was both tragic and heart-rending.  

"_Instructor!_"

"_Quistis!_"

"_Instructor Trepe!_"

Amidst the collective gasps and cries, the woman seized the chance and looped her whip around Quistis' neck, forcing it back so that her head hit the pillar with a painful thud and the wounds on Quistis' neck began to bleed in earnest again. 

"Stand back, or I swear I will kill her," stated the woman coldly. "Instructor Quistis Trepe, eh? One of the heroes who defeated Ultimecia." She shrugged her shoulders. "Come any closer and I will kill her. I want each of you to step back six steps. Big ones. Go on, now! Or else…" 

Quistis choked painfully as the woman tightened the noose around her throat and went limp.

"Oh, she's not dead yet," the woman assured them. She glared around. "You SeeDs. You won't talk when tortured, and you talk too much when you're not supposed to—"

The six doors around the huge room exploded, scattering bits of sharp metal, wood, cement, plaster and Hyne knew what else. Following the explosions, a group of men and women, armed to the teeth, stormed into the room and headed straight for the SeeDs. At the same time, there were shouts from above, and another detachment of SeeDs rappelled into the room through the broken skylights.

"Rinoa?!" exclaimed Squall, staring at the leader. Automatically, he swung over to her side and they battled side-by-side.

Rinoa Heartlilly tossed her head and gave him a quick smile as she dispatched of one attacker. "Irvine found Selphie's team and they've gone to save President Laguna. Zell's securing the exit routes now, together with Trabia's Barbadi and Esthar's Terbuchiut—you remember them, don't you? Come on!"

In the confusion, the woman had fallen back, loosing her hold on the noose, and Seifer blazed forward immediately, cutting her down in seconds. He was beside Quistis in a moment, his trusty gunblade set aside as another SeeD guarded his back, and his hands were busy freeing Quistis from her knots. She slid to the ground before he could catch her, and he was horrified to see the bloody marks left on the pillar as she slipped down.

"_Quistis!_" 

He caught her up in his arms. She was bleeding all over his uniform, bleeding still—at least she was alive, although her eyes were closed and she did not move. Seifer lifted his voice brokenly. "I need a healer—"

Selphie seemed to materialise from nowhere, and Seifer watched, tears coursing down his cheeks as Selphie poured healing spell after spell into Quistis, and forced liquids through lips that had to be gently forced open and frequently did not swallow the precious liquids being fed to her. Still the seconds ticked away, and perspiration beaded on Selphie's white forehead; the blood flow was slowing and some of the wounds had ceased to bleed, but Quistis remained unconscious, and she had already lost too much blood for Selphie's comfort. Seifer was still supporting Quistis' body, and had all his attention focused on her, but then he heard a shout of alarm. 

"_Rinoa__, watch out!_"

Seifer froze and then jerked, turning his head, and his hold on Quistis slackened as his attention wandered. If he had kept his head, he would have seen that Quistis' eyes were open, and their gaze was fixed quietly on him. Somehow, Squall's warning shout to Rinoa had penetrated Quistis' hearing, and she had forced herself to open her eyes. A split second later, she watched Seifer turn his head, and felt his hold on her weaken, even as Selphie continued to pour healing strength into her. 

Quistis' world spun as Seifer stared distractedly in the direction of the shout. The ice bands she had so carefully put around her heart began to weaken and give way. Her heart quivered and then shattered completely for the last time in the wake of one anguished thought, which arrowed like lightning and tore mercilessly through her.

_He still loves her._

She convulsed once in her blinding agony, her body arching backwards, a sharp movement of pain that startled Seifer so badly that his arms completely gave way and Quistis tumbled to the floor, hitting it with a horrible cracking sound. At the same time, Selphie cried out in terror as Quistis' wounds burst open forcefully and bled heavily, soaking the bandages in a matter of seconds and undoing all her good work.

"QUISTIS!" Selphie shrieked. "_QUISTIS, NO!_" 

_Let me die…I want to die…_

Quistis was gasping now, her body jerking sharply in tune with her struggles to breath. A single tear streaked from the corner of her right eye and slid down her face, and another tear slid down her left cheek. Just two tears, and another convulsive shudder, and then Quistis Trepe went completely limp, her face a ghastly shade of grey.

"**_QUISTIS!"_**


	8. One Hefty Dollop of Grief

© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (e-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Part Eight: One Hefty Dollop of Grief

It was too late.

They flew doctors in from Esthar, Galbadia, Trabia, Balamb, Dollet and even Fisherman's Horizon. From all corners of the world, Balamb Garden's SeeDs broke with protocol and rules, and sent for all manner of medical specialists. In all of Garden's history—or that of any other Garden's—nobody had received such special treatment. But all was in vain. Each specialist shook his or her head. Each gave a different verdict, but with the same conclusion: Quistis Trepe would not live more than four hours. She was lucky to have survived the trip to the nearest Esthar hospital.

Four hours! 

Seifer Almasy clenched his teeth, curled his hands into tight, bitter fists of misery, and tried to screw his head into the hospital wall. All those hours, days, months, _years spent with her by his side, and he had never once treated her as she deserved. Not once. He had defied her, mocked her to her face, insulted her every which way he could, ridiculed her—yes, he had ridiculed her a thousand times over—and, his final insult to her, to drop her on the floor as she struggled for her life in his arms._

He had failed her for the last time.

She would never come back—he would never fail her again. He would never have the chance to succeed for her.

Seifer buried his face in his hands as he continued trying to shove himself headfirst into the wall. He wanted to kill himself. As soon as she died, he'd find the nearest cliff, slice himself open with Hyperion and fall off it. He didn't deserve a resting place. He deserved to be thrown into the ocean like the foul, loathsome demon that he was. Seifer uttered a harsh sob. He had never cried in his life and this was the first time he was so close to tears. It was as if his gunblade was already slicing him to pieces. If he lived, he didn't think he could bear it—not Quistis—not golden-hearted, beautiful, incomparable Quistis, _his Quistis. __The best die young. Seifer gave another bitter sob as a tear ran down his cheek and stained his gloves._

He was not the only one. The corridor outside Quistis' room was filled with the sounds of weeping. Squall's head was so low that it nearly touched his knees, and his fingers were locked together with Rinoa's. Rinoa's pretty face was red and swollen, the result of her crying for the past hour since the bad news was broken to them. She was sitting disconsolately at Squall's feet, worn out, her head resting against his knees and her eyes were glazed over. Selphie was in very little better state, tears running down her cheeks as she berated herself for her inability to save Quistis. Irvine was rocking her in his arms, speaking gently in her ear, but the strain on his face told how he was trying to cope with his own deep-seated grief. Zell Dincht was sitting silently on the floor, his girlfriend (a new SeeD who used to work in the library) curled up next to him, her head tucked comfortably under his chin as she held on to him, her eyes dark with worry.

But their pain, Seifer thought, was incomparable to his. _They had cherished Quistis' moments with them. __They had treated her like their best friend, their sister and their confidante. __They had made her laugh so many times and given her joyful memories. __They had never neglected her, insulted her or tried to hurt her. __They had nothing to reproach themselves for, whereas he was sunk in a hell he had made for himself._

And then the door to Quistis' room opened and Dr. Kadowaki, summoned from her labours by Squall Leonhart, came out.   

"She's awake," announced Dr. Kadowaki.

"Does that mean—doesn't that mean she'll live?"

"She _will live, won't she? I mean, now that she's awake?"_

"Can we see her?"

Dr. Kadowaki held up one hand. "I'm sorry. No, it does not mean she will live. It's what we call a last rally—a final attempt at life. It never lasts long, I'm afraid."

There was a pause.

"Can we—can we see her?" murmured Selphie tremulously. "Please?"

"Let me see her first." Seifer pushed his way forward and fixed haunted, red-rimmed eyes on the doctor's face. "Please. I—I need to tell her some—some things…"

Dr. Kadowaki hesitated. Finally, she said gently, "I'm sorry, but she only wishes to see one person. She specifically requested for someone." The doctor turned to the couple standing not far off. "Mrs Kramer, Quistis wants to see you."


	9. Two Pitiful Confessions

© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (e-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Part 9: Two Pitiful Confessions

Edea Kramer's eyes filled with tears as she looked at the heavily bandaged figure lying on the white bed. Quistis was swathed in white bandages from head to toe, and even most of her face was covered in square white bandages. Edea could just make out Quistis' eyes, the lower part of her nose, half of one cheek, and the sweet mouth, disfigured by the cuts and bruises around it. Even Quistis' fingers were covered in bandages—they had been put through some form of torture that had made them all swollen.

"Quistis, I'm here." Edea's kind face bent over Quistis' bandaged one. "I'm here."

Quistis looked at Matron for a long time. She parted her lips very slowly and spoke softly, her voice ruined by the wounds on her neck. "I'm…dying…"

Edea tried to smile. "No, no, you won't. Don't be scared. I'll be here with you." She felt puzzled; she could have sworn that Quistis was smiling.

"The others…"

"They're all fine," Edea told her reassuringly. "We're all waiting for you to get better, so you must try to get better more quickly, Quistis dear." She carefully smoothed Quistis' hair, choking back tears.

"I'm glad…to die…"

Matron's mouth fell open. She could hardly believe her ears. "Quistis?" She stared at the dying girl.

Quistis gave a very small, slow sigh. "I…love him…I've tried…to stop…it hurts…so much…" She paused, gaining strength to continue after a while. "Living…is not…worth it…" She looked at Matron's stunned face. "Seifer…still loves…Rinoa…" A tear trickled down Quistis' cheek. "I—wanted to die…so—I…volunteered…" Her voice broke. "So much pain…I would…rather die…I'm so…tired…"

Matron's face was wet with tears. "Oh, my dear, my dear. Why didn't you tell any of us? And—does Seifer know that you love him?"

"No." Quistis seemed to be smiling faintly. "No… don't tell him…I know…understand… he…can never…love—me…"

And then Edea Kramer understood. Quistis Trepe wasn't dying from her injuries. She was dying of a broken heart.

"Matron…" Quistis' eyes were intense. "Make the others…promise…stand by…help Seifer…"

Matron nodded, tears falling. "I promise, Quisty. But you must live! We love you, Quisty—"  

But Quistis closed her eyes and slipped back into unconsciousness.

"Quistis! _Quistis! Dr. Kadowaki!"_

Standing at the door, Cid Kramer's face had become grey and old in an instant. "We're losing her."

Startled heads jerked up all round. There was a flash of grey and black. Seifer Almasy had pushed his way past the headmaster into the room. Edea Kramer shook her head at her husband as she went to him for comfort.

"Let him," she whispered, sobbing into her husband's shoulder. "Let him…"

And inside the room, Seifer Almasy was on his knees by Quistis' side, holding one of her hands in both of his. He had never begged anyone in his life, but this was different.

"Quistis, don't leave, please don't, I'm begging you, Quisty, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please, Quis, please stay. Don't go, don't die on me, Quis…Quis, _I love you…" _

They were words forced from him in a blinding moment of clarity. It was _Quistis he loved. Not Rinoa. What he felt for Rinoa was different. It was something that was long past, and had died eons ago, but he had been too stubborn to admit it. He had clung on to a past he should have left behind, trying to recall embers long cold, and in his stubbornness, he had not seen the love that was growing in him for the gracious, golden-hearted girl who had been by his side, supporting him for a long time. __Now he understood what it meant to love with all his heart and soul, and to love with an emotion and passion so deep-rooted that her death meant his as well._

"Don't leave me, Quis, I love you, I _love you__…" _

He sobbed, pressing the cold, limp fingers to his cheek, his eyes, his lips, as if the sheer depth of his love could give her life.   


	10. One Last-Ditch Attempt

© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (e-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

I'm glad that so many people are in tears over this story, especially since it was written to make people's hearts ache in sympathy. The tears are a real bonus. Oh, well, more power to tissues.  *smiles vaguely, dizzily, and drifts off softly to walk in Quistis' and Seifer's shoes*

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Part 10: One Last-Ditch Attempt

"Rinoa."

Rinoa lifted a forlorn face.

Edea Kramer was beckoning to her, a determined look on her face. "Come with me." She paused, and then eyed the brown-haired young man with Rinoa. "Squall, you had better come along too. The rest of you wait here."

Squall tightened the arm he had around Rinoa and she leaned in closer to him as they obeyed silently. 

Inside, Seifer was on his knees by Quistis' side, holding her limp hand against his cheek, his eyes fixed mutely on her. He looked up dully as they entered and then turned away to continue his vigil by the dying girl's side. Matron put a hand on his shoulder—a light touch, no more.

"I'm going to try something that may be able to bring Quistis back," she said quietly. "I will need your help, Seifer."

He looked despairingly at her. "She's dying," he whispered miserably, his voice sunk into a hoarseness none of them had ever heard from him before. "She's beyond all medicine, all magic—"

"She isn't dying because of her injuries," said Edea Kramer softly. She was silent for a moment before she told them what little she could. "She's dying because she isn't fighting for her life." Matron bent her gaze on Seifer. "I want _you, Seifer, to persuade her to fight. I don't care how you do it so long as you get her to fight for her life."_

"Why?" mumbled Seifer. "Why me? I'm nothing—she—I—"

"You know why," Edea told him crisply, refusing to elaborate further. She had a feeling that he cared more for Quistis then he had let on, but it was not for her to tell him that. He already knew it. "And even if you think you don't, it's time you did something to help her. Now stop asking questions. We haven't got time." She turned swiftly to address Rinoa. "Rinoa, we need your powers as a Sorceress. Do as I say. Put your hand on Quistis' hand. Gently, now. Seifer, you do the same, and both of you, link your free hands."

Seifer and Rinoa did as they were told. 

"What we're going to do next involves Quistis' mind, so you must be very careful. Rinoa, concentrate on your memories of Quistis. You should be able to open a pathway into her mind. Seifer, I also want you to think of your memories of Quistis. With both your memories and Rinoa's power, you should be able to open a path. Have we all got that so far?"

They nodded.

Edea now spoke to Seifer. "Once Rinoa has opened a pathway into Quistis' mind, you too can walk in. Remember, your job is to persuade Quistis to come back to us. Rinoa will not say anything. Rinoa, you must concentrate fully on your powers, understand?"

Squall cleared his throat. "Are there any—any side effects—or whatever…"

"Rinoa may become too…attached to Quistis' mind. This is where you come in, Squall. When I tell you to, I want you to force Rinoa away from both Seifer and Quistis, and break the physical connection. I don't want any of you trapped in Quistis' mind. As for you, Seifer—I will break the connection for you." She nodded to Rinoa. "Are we all ready? – Then let's begin."  

Rinoa fixed her eyes on Quistis and Seifer did the same. Then the dark-haired girl closed her eyes and concentrated. She summoned the memories of one of the best friends she had ever made. Quistis, stern and determined, with an unshakeable focus on the practical; Quistis, smiling in that gentle, enigmatic way she had, as if she was smiling at them all from a very far distance; Quistis sitting up with her until curfew time to tutor her for SeeD; Quistis, reluctantly being dragged along into a very expensive store to try on a dress she had admired in a magazine days before; Quistis in battle, trying to be everywhere at once and to protect everyone at once;  Quistis' weakness for rock bands with soulful, mournful, jaded sounds…

And she saw dimly, in her mind, a line of light into the dark…the path into Quistis Trepe's mind.

Meanwhile, Seifer too had been concentrating on his memories of Quistis. Quistis as his instructor, easily frustrated by his behaviour, but somehow never able to give up on him; Quistis giving him lecture after lecture after lecture for not misbehaviour; his own jealousy at the fact that she seemed to overly favour Squall when _he was just as brilliant; Quistis arriving too late to save him from Ultimecia's clutches—he would forever remember the frozen, helpless look on her face; Quistis curled up in his bed the day she had fallen asleep from exhaustion while working on a report of their mission—and oh, he hadn't had the heart to wake her; Quistis' tact in slipping away silently just when he wanted to be alone, or making herself inconspicuous when he didn't want to be alone, but pretended he did; finding himself in a proper bed after a drunk night's out, and knowing that Quistis had somehow managed to find him and drag him there; Quistis' face and eyes when she smiled at him, which was but rarely; and the pain that always lay buried behind those blue eyes, a pain he hadn't been aware of because he was so wrapped up in himself; and most of all, his love for her…_

And he saw, dimly, in his mind, a line of light into the dark…the path into Quistis Trepe's mind.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*

I know I haven't updated lately, but it's been terrible. I've been in school for the past two weeks, since school's already started where I live. There's so much work, but hopefully, I will be able to put in more chapters for both my stories this weekend. Thank you all so much! I honestly do love you all – your kind reviews have been very encouraging.


	11. One Step Into The Unknown

Author: Gold (E-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Squaresoft owns rights to FINAL FANTASY VIII. I own rights to the storyline of this tale.

The Dish: An Angsty Seiftis

Part 11: One Step Into The Unknown

Quistis stood still in the darkness. It was a neutral sort of darkness, neither threatening, nor safe. It was a little like the darkness of space—there was darkness in spite of the light. She was only certain of one thing—she had to move on and walk on ahead. But her feet were heavy, as if there were balls and chains attached to it, and she made little progress. She felt no physical pain. Here, on the way out of life, she left her aches and injuries behind. But with her she still carried memories of him. Seifer. Every step she made was weighed down by thoughts of him. It was as if she was not ready to leave him, and he was calling her back.

_But I have to, she reminded herself. __I can't go back to life, and then die by inches every day, while he loves Rinoa. She lifted her chin, setting her teeth together as she held back tears. She would go on, into that utter darkness. Somewhere in the distance, she could discern a faint light that shimmered in a welcoming sort of way. And that light was her destination—eternal rest from pain._

_Quistis! Quistis! Stop!_

She stopped, hardly able to believe her ears. _That sounds like Seifer…She forced herself to turn around very, very slowly._

And it _was Seifer. He was moving very slowly towards her, as if something strong was pushing against him, preventing his progress. His face was a mask of anguish—was it for her? He stretched out one hand pleadingly towards her—was he reaching for her?_

_Seifer?_

_Quistis! Please, wait for me. Don't go. Please, don't go._

It had to be a figment of her imagination. Quistis' eyes filled with sudden tears and she prepared to turn away. The real Seifer Almasy would never have said that. He would never ask her not to leave. He would watch her as she left and then turn his back away, because she didn't matter to him. The bands around her heart squeezed fiercely and she gave a quiet, slightly choked sob as she turned her face away from the imaginary Seifer.

_Instructor, please don't leave me!           _

Quistis' head snapped up and she stared.

Seifer's voice was pleading.

_Quis, come back to me. Come back. I can't live without you. Hyne damn it, what's wrong with this place? Why can't I move any faster?_

The frustration in his voice was palpable.

Still Quistis hesitated. _Is that—is that really you, Seifer? Her voice was soft, shaky and questioning._

_Yes, it's me, Quisty. I've come to bring you back. Please._

Quistis lowered her eyes. _Why? I'll be happier where I'm going. I can't go back with you. I'm dying. I'm already…dead._

_NO! I won't let you die! Quis, please fight back. Matron says you're only dying because you won't fight back.   _

Matron? Quistis' face rapidly flushed scarlet, then went white, and then scarlet again. _Wh-what did Matron say about me?_

She could see Seifer more clearly now. He was panting, his face flushed with apparent exertion and his eyes were fixed with great intensity on her face.

_She says you're not fighting for your life. He held out both his hands, trying to reach her. __Please fight, Quis, and come back to us. _

Quis. He'd called her 'Quis'. The colour flooded Quistis' cheeks.

_Please. Come back. We need you. Everyone needs you. Seifer bit his lip as he shot a glance at Quistis.__ Everyone. Would she understand? Everyone needed her—including him. He needed her most. If she walked away and died, he would go with her, walk with her, run after her if need be, and all the Matrons in the world couldn't stop him by breaking a physical connection. He couldn't breathe or live if he lost her and let her go just like that._

_Nobody needs me._

The strong conviction in Quistis' silently spoken words stunned Seifer.

_Everyone has somebody who loves them beyond anything and whom they love above all else, she told him, smiling quietly._

Seifer could see the smile on her face, but it cut deeper than a thousand Save The Queens, and it seemed to shed a river of tears all by itself.

_You see…everyone has someone. Squall and Rinoa have each other, Irvine and Selphie have each other, Zell has his mother and his girlfriend, Matron has Cid and you have Matron to love you beyond anything, and you love her, and—and… everyone cares for someone and has someone to care for. Quistis' smile faded. __But I'm different. I'm Quistis Trepe. _

She flung out one hand, as if to say, there you have it. _I'm not needed. And I know that. So tell the others for me, goodbye._

_Don't leave me! Seifer was desperate as he struggled to reach her. __Quistis, I need you. I—if you leave me now, I'll go with you. I won't let you go!_

Her sigh was audible. _Seifer. Go back. _

Seifer's temper flared. _I'm not leaving without you. Rinoa! I know you can hear me. Now if Quistis doesn't want to leave, I'm not leaving either. Don't bother answering me, Rinoa—you'd better save your strength._

Quistis listened with increasing astonishment, heightened by the sharp pain she felt when she heard Rinoa's name on Seifer's lips. But the pain was swamped under a greater amount of bewilderment and suspicion. She eyed Seifer narrowly, and decided that the suddenly arrogant, haughty look on Seifer's face—very different from the anguished pleading earlier—boded ill to her plans.

_Whatever you're thinking, Seifer, you can forget about it, she informed him crisply, unable to hide the bitterness she felt. __And what's Rinoa doing here?_

Seifer studied her for a moment. Did she know how she looked like, he wondered painfully? He didn't see the Quistis he knew, and that had been his first shock when he had entered her mind. She looked at least fifteen years older than he knew her to be, and there were dark smudges under her eyes, and her cheeks were hollow. She was very thin, nearly skin and bone, and the radiance that glowed through her skin told a pitiful story of the bright inner essence that was still present within the worn outer covering. This was Quistis Trepe in her own mind. He wanted to know who had done this to her—who had hurt her so badly that it battered her true self almost beyond recognition. If he told her what she wanted to know—Rinoa and the task Matron had given him—would she tell him everything in return?

_Matron says you're not fighting for your life. I think that means that you're not supposed to die, he said, watching her. __Rinoa's power brought me here to talk to you—_

_Then I suggest you go back. Quistis' voice was expressionless. __Nothing can change my mind. Go back and don't waste any more strength—don't waste any of Rinoa's strength._

Seifer glared at her. _I told you, I'm not leaving until you promise to return to us and to fight for your life! Why are you like this, Quistis? Why won't you listen to me? His voice was heavy with anger and frustration. __Who hurt you, Quisty? Who made you believe nobody cares for you? Who hurt you this way?_

He saw her grow white in a flash, and knew that he had struck pay dirt.  Now the fury rose in him and he nearly choked with rage. Who had dared to hurt her? **WHO? _Tell me who hurt you and I'll make him pay, he nearly snarled. __Who? Was it—Squall?_**

He had always known that Quistis carried a torch for Puberty Boy. _Months he'd spent in his instructor's class, and she'd had only eyes for that blasted fool who didn't know the number of a good hair salon, and who had stolen Rinoa's heart from him.  Seifer suddenly found himself overwhelmed with jealousy, and he stood silently, fists clenched._

_Was it Squall? He lunged forward, trying to reach her, but whatever was slowing him down was doing too good a job and he moved all of three inches forward, which was a __big help. __Tell me! I knew it was him all along, that—_

_Shut up! Quistis screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks, her fists clenched by her sides. __It wasn't him, you idiot, it was **never him! ****Never him! **__Never…him…_

Not Squall? Then—who…who…? Seifer felt something strange stirring inside him—

_Seifer…hurry! I can't…hold…_

Rinoa's voice startled both of them. It brought Quistis to her feet immediately. She stood tall and alert, and Seifer swallowed as he watched her. In spite of everything, she was every inch a queen, her dignity intact, her poise perfect. And, Quistis-style, she forgot her troubles and attended to others first.

_Rinoa, is that you? Don't hold on. Get Seifer away from here. I don't want anything to happen to either of you. I'm going now.—Goodbye._

_Quis…tis…don't…Seifer felt his vision begin to blur and he understood as he felt, actually felt someone shaking him. Angered, he bent his energies to yelling.  __Rinoa, tell Matron to stop it! I'm never leaving without Quistis!_

_You'll be trapped! wailed Rinoa's disembodied voice. _

_Yah, yah, Seifer informed anybody who was listening. He faced Quistis, eyes burning in a face that was set with grim determination. __I'm not leaving without you, now or ever again. If you're going—wherever you go, I'm following. Nothing can stop me, Quistis, not even you, and I'll die if I have to, do you understand me?_

Quistis' mouth trembled. _No. Please, Seifer, go back. Don't follow. You'll break Matron's heart. Please. Seifer, go back before it's too late! Go back! You can't leave them all behind!  She wondered if she should mention Rinoa's name, but the thought nearly killed her—she could never bear to ask him to go back for Rinoa's sake. __Seifer, **go! Her voice was rising to a shriek now. **__I want to be left alone, don't you see, I want to die…_

Seifer froze in disbelief. She—_wanted—to die…_

His distraction cost him precious time as Rinoa's strength slipped and he felt Matron give him a sharp shake that tore his hand from Quistis' in the real world. As his fingers parted from hers, he saw his vision dimming and Quistis' image flickering in his mind. In a last desperate attempt, he cried out to her.

_Quistis, I can't live without you! I—_


	12. Light

© 2002 Original storyline by Gold (E-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.  This story is in no way connected to Squaresoft or its subsidiaries or partners.

The Dish : An Angsty Seiftis

Part 12: Light 

"—love you!"

Seifer found himself back in the hospital room, by Quistis' white bed. To be more accurate, he was on the floor by the bed. He knew without being told. He had failed. He whirled on Edea Kramer, his fists curled in rage. 

"_Why? Why did you pull me away?" he screamed, still kneeling by the bed. "__I couldn't reach her—I might have—I'd go with her—" He choked on his grief as his voice died away into a shaking whisper. "I didn't get to tell her…"_

He hadn't told her—he hadn't told her that he loved her—

"I'm sorry," whispered Matron, her hands pressed against her cheeks, tears rolling down her cheeks. "She told me she—" _She told me that she loves you, she wanted to say._

But Seifer wasn't listening. He was staggering to his feet, tear tracks still glistening on his cheeks. And then he was hurling furniture across the hospital room. He threw a chair across the room and watched as it crashed into the glass window opposite, tearing the curtains from their hooks. He then ripped out the telephone, tore the wires from it, and smashed it into the ceiling. He flung the medicine glass on the floor, and it shattered. He swept everything off the bedside table and sent the bedside table skittering to the other end of the room, where it careened through the door and out. Eyes wild, breath choking in his throat, he looked about for more things to destroy.

Squall's expression dared him to move a step closer. Rinoa's exhausted form was clasped in Squall's arms, her head lolling on his shoulder as she slept, dead to the world. Seifer narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Blast Squall. He'd sent Quistis to her death—

"That's enough."

Dr Kadowaki was surveying the damage with an annoyed expression on her face. She looked at Seifer. 

He glared back ferociously. "_It's never going to be enough!"_

Dr Kadowaki stared back at him. "Right. And Quistis would want you to start destroying most of the furniture around to show your love for her."

Seifer drew his gunblade, snarling. "You're treading on thin ice, you idiot woman." 

"So are you, you &*$% @#$%^&*%," Dr Kadowaki informed him, standing her ground and swearing with the best of sailors.

There was silence in the room.

"Seifer, Quistis told me that she loves you." Matron's voice shook. Inwardly she quaked. She had broken one of the cardinal rules: a secret entrusted to you is sacrosanct. She fervently hoped that Seifer would take it the right way—and judging by the colour of his face—

Seifer's heart just about tore out of his chest when Matron made her astonishing announcement. He froze and the words spun round in his head. _Quistis…loves you…Quistis…loves you…But there were a thousand kinds of love, and the one that mattered, the only one that mattered—_

Dr. Kadowaki cleared her throat and nodded to Matron, Squall and Rinoa. Obediently, Squall and Rinoa left, and Matron gently herded a still dazed Seifer out of the room.  

_Quisty__…_

He sank down against the wall, and tried to make sense of things. Quistis Trepe…Quisty…loved him?

"More than you can imagine," said the familiar voice of Matron Edea, and he looked up. "More, perhaps, than life itself…" Her voice faltered.

He was silent for a long time, and when he spoke again, his voice was strangely hushed. "What—what kind of love was it?" He tried not to sound too hopeful, too despairing.

"The kind a woman has for the one man of all the world," was the answer. "The kind they call a love that lasts a lifetime, and beyond…"

Seifer leaned his head against the wall, lost in thought. When had he fallen in love with her? Gradually, yes, that must be it, but when exactly? Was it the first time he'd seen her as that pretty, blonde child with the wise blue eyes that seemed to judge everything so gravely and impartially? Or the teenager he had met, whose gifted record was only eclipsed by her own students later in life—one a Sorceress' Knight and the other, a World Hero? He remembered her at sixteen, then seventeen, then eighteen, growing into a woman as the years passed, and her body tried to catch up with the incredible mind. Then, when his own life was dark and he came back, drawn to the only place that still held people who had loved him long ago, she'd seemed like a distant star.

But Rinoa had been light to him, and the power she held as sorceress still called to him, once Ultimecia's Knight, and once her sweetheart in a time when it was still spring and a young man's heart turned to love.  He had always known that there was a light in his life, even in that dark period when he was trying to live again, but he had thought that the light was from Rinoa. Who'd have thought that the light was already with him, by his side always?

Quistis had given him enough light to live—and more than that. It seemed that in giving him light, she had kept very little for herself. He remembered those very blue eyes, grave and strangely opaque on the day she left for the suicide mission—opaque with a loneliness and surrender that had cut him to the heart, but that he had not recognised, despite his own experiences.  He had wanted to give up so many times and let darkness take him where it wanted, but she had come in always at the critical moment, and fought to tear him away, to rouse him away—and she had succeeded.

At what cost? Her own strength? Her own—light? She hadn't been a distant star. If she was, she had burned herself out to dazzle her way through to him when he had believed that Rinoa was the sun. He'd left Quistis with a hollow shell of herself, aged years beyond her real age…the Quistis he had seen in her mind, a brittle, frail spirit, straining to hold body, mind and soul together.

He—had—abandoned—her.

He remembered now.

When she had left once for a long mission, without him, for three weeks, he had been lost, and wandered from girl to girl, trying to seek light, and thinking that it was because Rinoa was away on a visit to Timber. But it hadn't been Rinoa he had missed. It was Quistis. And the day she had come back, he saw her standing there, talking to Rinoa—and the light had returned. But he did not go to the light, and tried instead to stay away from it while he went in the wrong direction, searching for more light. And how difficult it must have been for the light to find him where he did not want to be found! But Quistis had always been there…she had always been there…And if she slipped away now, all the light in his world would drift away with her. 

Slowly, Seifer rose to his feet. He watched silently as Irvine held a sobbing Selphie in his arms, and helped her out of the room. They had just been in to see Quistis. Behind them came Dr. Kadowaki, and she looked straight at Seifer, with all the philosophical calmness of a doctor to whom death was something familiar, to be battled but also accepted as the final inevitability. He wondered how she lived with it.

Dr. Kadowaki spoke matter-of-factly. "You can see her again."

_One last time._

The unspoken words hung in the air. He didn't know what to do. By right, he should have been on his feet, running to the room, but somehow, leaning against the wall was all he could do at that moment. He had already been bereft; was there any real need to go in there and see her again? It would not change anything.

He opened his mouth. "No," he croaked, his voice soft and raspy.

Dr. Kadowaki blinked at him in surprise. She was about to say something, but then there was a sudden flurry of activity, and white-coated doctors and neatly-uniformed nurses began dashing in and out, all around them.

"Kadowaki!" called someone urgently.

The doctor turned. "Here!"

"Vitals just improved! We might have a chance! You're needed—come on!"

Dr Kadowaki's eyes flashed. She hurried to follow, but Seifer lunged at her.

"What—chance—what—"

The doctor turned back to him. "Her vital signs just altered, maybe for the better. We might have a chance to save her. I don't know."

Seifer drew a sharp breath. "Can you—is it possible—I thought—"

Dr Kadowaki shook his arm off impatiently. "Like I said, nothing's certain. But now we have a chance." Abruptly, she whirled and _ran.  _


	13. One Bed Scene

© 2002 Original storyline by Gold (E-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.  This story is in no way connected to Squaresoft or its subsidiaries or partners.

The Dish: An Angsty Seiftis

Part 13:   One Bed Scene

"I can't believe I got to see him!" sighed Selphie as she hugged herself and twirled around the room. "He was too, too gorgeous! And he kissed me on the cheek—oh, he is so hot…" She pretended to fan herself, giggling. "He's just as gorgeous as his voice and I am _so his number one fan!!! I am __so lucky he signed all my CDs!"_

Irvine, standing a good distance away, silently lowered his head so that the cowboy hat he wore shielded his eyes and threw a careful shadow across most of his handsome face. He was leaning against the window in a nonchalant posture, but if Selphie had looked more closely, she would have recognised the brief flash of insecurity that crossed the features of the easy-going, good-natured young man.

On the only bed in the room, propped up by five pillows, and tucked in warmly, was Quistis, still enveloped in bandages, and looking frail and not at all her old self. She was not smiling—her face and neck hurt too much if she did—and besides, she was a little worried about Irvine's silence. He had not said a single word since he and Selphie entered her room, Selphie leading and he trailing quietly behind her.

By Quistis' bedside sat Seifer, also unusually silent, training his eyes on her. He had been with her every waking minute, and he rarely ever left her side, although Squall had threatened him with a mission or two if he did not get some exercise and start showing his face around Garden a little more often. After all, it wasn't as if he was on no-paid leave.

Their relations, however, were extremely awkward. Quistis seemed to jump every time he moved, and she appeared rather determined to stay away from him, at least in spirit, because he was always physically close to her. She had awoken long after a marathon rescue operation in which the doctors had done several things—none of which anyone understood, but which didn't matter, because she was alive. And although Seifer had been with Quistis most of the time, and his face had been the first she had seen when she opened her eyes, there was a chasm between them, one that seemed strangely impossible to cross.

Seifer couldn't understand it and felt helpless and hopeless; he had never been in such a situation before, desperately in love and terrified that he would frighten her away because he was too clumsy or too stupid, or just totally a potato, or _something. He should have been happy, and he was, partly, but he was also mired in self-doubt and fear. He didn't know if she cared. Never mind what Matron said. Quistis had never said anything and she was so skittish around him that he was afraid of upsetting her. It made the time they spent together extremely awkward. And if Quistis didn't care—it was difficult for Seifer to breathe, just thinking of that possibility._

"Well," muttered Squall, standing up. "Nice to see you're better. I have to go." He looked apologetic and gloomy, partly because Rinoa was away on a visit to her father (whom she had reconciled with, but that's another story for another time). "Work." He looked at Zell. 

"Oh, all right," grumbled Zell, getting up. "And sure, you had to remind me about it!"

Quistis lifted a hand cautiously. She was getting stronger every day, but it was a pain to move. Her recovery period had been predicted to be anything from a year to two years, which dismayed everyone, particularly as a grand total of three months had passed. "You should take a holiday sometime, Squall," she whispered painfully. The mike she wore amplified her whisper for her; she had nearly lost her voice completely from the whip injuries inflicted around her neck, and it was still uncertain if she would ever regain it.

Squall nodded. "I'll think about it."

Zell just grinned a little. "I'll bully him into it, Quisty, don't you worry," he promised. "See you, and take care, yeah?"

Irvine shifted slightly and cleared his throat. "I think I'd better be going too," he said rather quietly. He glanced at Selphie. "Shall we, Selphie? It's almost four and I promised we'd take a look at the tea shop that's opened recently."

Selphie put a hand to her mouth. "Oh! I forgot! Oh, Irvine, I'm sorry! I can't go after all!"

Irvine paused. "Oh," he said neutrally. "I thought…" he allowed his voice to trail off with a faint question in it.

Selphie dimpled and blushed. "He's visiting Garden at five today. I'm supposed to show him round, you know, as part of the Public Relations Committee."

Irvine stared. "Who invited him?"

Selphie gave him a look.  "He's visiting from Esthar and he's heard so much about Garden he wanted to see it for himself, so Headmaster agreed. Headmaster likes his songs too, you know!"  

Irvine opened his mouth again, but then shot a quick look at Seifer and Quistis and closed his mouth again. He nodded briefly. "Take care, Quisty. Call me if you need anything. Later, Almasy."

Selphie looked after Irvine in surprise as he left, her face falling slightly. She chewed a little on her lower lip and then glanced around, suddenly finding that she was alone. "Well…" she murmured. "I guess I should go too," she said slowly. She suddenly winked at Seifer and Quistis. "Now, you two don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

The silence that fell after Selphie's departure was not unusual. 

"You don't have to stay here, you know." _You could walk away from me. It doesn't matter.  _

_I'm not going to walk away from you, not now, not ever. You'll have to drive me away with everything you have, and even then, I'm going to keep coming back. I won't leave you alone. "I can spare the time," he answered carefully._

She was silent.

He looked at her, at the bandages, at the bruises, and the suffering in the beautiful, haggard face, and spoke impulsively. "Quistis—" he stopped, swallowing. "You never did answer my question."

She stared at him.

Green eyes, with fire in them, met guarded blue ones. 

"Why did you want to die?" 

She froze, eyes widening.

He held that shocked gaze. "You said you wanted to be left alone because you wanted to die…" His voice trailed away into the thickening silence. 

Still she said nothing, but now she turned her eyes away from him. But he was not done. He wanted answers. He had one more question to ask and it took all his courage to do so. He took the plunge.

"Did I hurt you—so much—that you had to throw your life away?" 

Startled blue eyes flew wildly to meet his, accompanied by a barely audible gasp from pale lips. That was all it took, but the damage was done. The answer was as clear as if she had spoken and it drove the blood from Seifer's face. It had been a shot in the dark. He had not really meant to say it, but something had told him—if it wasn't Squall who had hurt her—and if she'd really loved him—and if she'd done everything for him—and—

  "Are you _crazy or what?" he rasped suddenly and fiercely. "I'm not worth one __second of your life, Quisty! __Not one second! Don't you __ever do something so stupid ever again, do you hear me? I—I'll—if you—__ever—" He broke off, having found himself too close to tears to say anything else, and dropped his head into his hands._

It seemed an interminably long while before he was aware of something else. He felt fingers running lightly and slowly over his hair. Slowly, he raised his head, the lashes of his eyes suspiciously wet. 

Quistis' hand slid down to rest against his cheek, and he captured it so that it lay imprisoned against his cheek, but he did so very gently so as not to hurt her newly-recovered fingers.  

Then he looked straight into those brilliant blue eyes and said, quite simply:

"I love you."


	14. A Smattering of Doubt

© 2002 Original storyline by Gold (E-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.  This story is in no way connected to Squaresoft or its subsidiaries or partners.

The Dish: An Angsty Seiftis

Part 14: A Smattering of Doubt

Quistis stared at her reflection.  Everything she saw in the smooth, exact replica of her physical appearance reminded her of her infirmities. A long, thin white scar cupped her face from temple to chin, and there were at least three other similar, whip-inflicted white scars that marred her face. Plastic surgery had managed to subdue all the scars on her face to near obliteration, but one could see them in strong light, and they would always be there. And the scars that littered the rest of her body were too numerous to bother with. 

But those permanent white lines were the least of it.

Quistis had a problem, and its name was Seifer Almasy.

He had said he loved her. In the light of that moment, at that point in time, she had believed him utterly. But lately she had been thinking that matters weren't that simple. Matron had confessed that she had told Seifer that Quistis loved him—was in love with him. 

Quistis breathed in a soft, small sigh. Everything had seemed so simple until then. Seifer loved her, she loved him, they'd live happily ever after, especially after she was fully recovered—she still had to go for some physical therapy, but at least she was back to instructing, and earning her keep. 

But Matron had told Seifer that Quistis loved him.

And that was why Seifer had told Quistis he loved her.  

Quistis' mouth trembled softly and she bit quietly on it, and glanced away from her reflection to hold back the tears. Why hadn't she seen the connection until now? Was she truly so much a fool as to believe that Seifer Almasy could fall in love with her overnight, with a snap of his fingers—when for all the time they had known each other, he had so clearly preferred Rinoa? She could clearly recall the day SeeD had broken in and she had been rescued from certain death. Seifer had still been in love with Rinoa then. And after that—

It was just not possible. She and Seifer had not interacted after that day—she had gone straight into a coma, for Hyne's sake—and it was just impossible for Seifer to love her, just like that overnight. And right up to the day of his "confession", although he had stayed with her, by her side, they had not been on the chummiest of terms. 

Matron.

Quistis held back her tears. _Matron, why did you have to tell him that? Couldn't you have let it be…_

How could she not have seen it before? The injuries and everything must have addled her brains.

Quistis knew that Seifer must have felt obliged somehow, having heard what Matron had to say, even if he didn't feel the same way._ That was why he had gone to look for her—no, wait, __Matron had asked him to 'bring Quisty back'. He hadn't done so of his own volition…not that it would have mattered, would it? But with Rinoa, he would have. And now that he had slowly come to accept Rinoa and Squall being a couple, it must have been easy for him to think he could care for Quistis. But that "love" was mistaken—it was sprung from obligation and pity. He couldn't have fallen in love with her over those few weeks she had been awake—it defied logic, when she had been comatose and then largely silent and ungracious. Not like that—and not Seifer…never Seifer.   _

It was all wrong. 

"Quisty_!" called Rinoa's voice from without. "Can we come in? It's almost time and we want to see how you look!"_

They were worried that she was still not quite able to dress herself properly, she knew. After all, you can only look _so good in a SeeD uniform. _

Quistis turned away from the mirror. "Come in, then."

The door nearly burst open on its hinges as Rinoa and Selphie plunged into the room and circled Quistis with the air of buzzards.

"Looks good," commented Rinoa unnecessarily. "Selphie?"

Selphie nodded and smiled quickly. "I agree."

Quistis was roused out of her Seifer-centred thoughts, and she and Rinoa exchanged swift glances. Selphie was being remarkably quiet lately and they guessed that it had to do with her sudden and unexpected break-up with Irvine.

"If you love Irvine, why don't you talk to him?" Rinoa said very gently. "The two of you are very much in love and all of Garden can see that."

Selphie flushed a little. "He shouldn't have thought that I was—that I didn't care enough—or that I was seeing someone else behind his back—"

Quistis interrupted. "He has good reason." Her eyes blazed. "You did take him for granted when you simply cancelled dates on him without notice and took that singer, what's his name, off on a tour and then _dinner at the very same place you and Irvine were supposed to have a date that evening! I don't think that was the first time."_

"I'm the Garden Committee chair and I ought to take him round," protested Selphie. "Headmaster—"

Quistis' lips thinned. "Headmaster didn't know you had a date with Irvine. Any other member of the Committee could have done perfectly well—and failing that, send a three-member delegation then. Numbers make up for lack of rank—that's a PR rule and you know it." She paused and added in a brittle voice, "Don't be too proud to accept love that's true, and springs purely from the heart, rather than some misplaced sense of obligation or pity. Irvine loves you. If you still love him, I suggest you make the first move and apologise for taking him for granted."    

Rinoa and Selphie stared at her in astonishment, but Quistis was already regretting the impulse that had driven her to speak.

"Let's go."


	15. Finé

© 2002 Original storyline by Gold (E-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.  This story is in no way connected to Squaresoft or its subsidiaries or partners.

And so here we end. 

The Dish: An Angsty Seiftis

Part 15: Finé

Seifer craned his neck and glanced about anxiously. He had wanted to escort Quistis down, but she had been quite firm about it. She wanted to show everyone that she could make it quite well on her own, and he had agreed. After all, it was really supposed to be her night—hers and that of the SeeD who had gone with her on the nearly-disastrous suicide mission.  It had been a little over a year since. Now that the awards and speeches and stage toasts were over, Seifer wanted to get back to Quistis' side. But where was she?

He caught hold of a passing SeeD—Nida, very proper in his ceremonial SeeD uniform. "Have you seen Quistis?"

Nida thought for a moment. "Ten minutes ago, squeezed into a corner by the President of Esthar. I think he was trying to shake her hand off. That way." He pointed and Seifer rushed off thankfully in the indicated direction. 

He found her outside the ballroom, strategically placed in a dim corner near three large, shoulder-high potted palms. The life of the party was within, and she had chosen to stay without. She was looking pale and strained, and he knew at a glance that she needed to sit down. He went up to her immediately.

"You're tired, darling; lean on me," he murmured tenderly, suiting the action to the word and drawing her carefully against him.

Quistis did not look at him. Instead of relaxing against him, she stepped away. 

Surprised, he stood still for a moment.  It seemed that a sudden gulf had opened up between them and he didn't know how, or why it was there.

"Quis—what is it?" 

Quistis turned to look at him, her eyes bright and a little too blank, Seifer thought with some alarm. 

"What's wrong?" He made a move towards her.

This time, she did not step back, but neither did she move closer to him. Rather, she regarded him with an expression he could not fathom. 

He found himself stopping just short of pulling her into a loving embrace. Instead, he waited, tense, for whatever it was she wanted to say.

Slowly, she turned her face so that shadow fell across it. "I think we shouldn't see each other any longer."

The words were clear and direct, and her tone was calm.

But it shook Seifer from head to toe, because he knew that he had not heard wrongly. His first thought was that she had gone mad. His second, more rational thought was that Quistis must have some reason—some form of logic, indeed, behind her stunning statement—or at least what _she thought was logic. _

"Why?" he heard himself ask, and was shocked at the steadiness of his voice. He clenched his fists. What had put that idea into her head? Or—_who?_

She faced him, eyes burning like blowtorches. "What makes you think you love me?" she demanded in a low voice. "I think you're fooling yourself. And I don't want to be part of it."

He stared at her.

"You can't love me overnight. It's not possible. I nearly die, and when I wake, you're there—and you tell me some weeks later that you—that you _care." Quistis' cheeks were scarlet. "I know you feel you owe me—for things—but believe me, you don't. You don't," she repeated. "You can't love me overnight." She shook her head. "It doesn't __hold. It __doesn't."_

At first, Seifer had been afraid of what she was going to say. But as he listened, he felt a queer fury rise in him. "It 'doesn't _hold'?" he repeated sharply. His eyes blazed. "It __doesn't hold?" He nearly threw up his hands. "Hell, Quistis, do you think I've stayed with you because I __pity you? Do you think I begged you to come back to us out of anything but love? Open your eyes, for Hyne's sake! I didn't swear to pull you out of Esthar alive because I __pitied you. I didn't—"_

"_You didn't love me before Esthar," Quistis said fiercely, blue eyes glimmering. "You were in love with Rinoa. I was like some kind of thorn in your flesh, even if SeeD sent us on joint missions as partners. When did you ever care for me? Not once—not even as a friend." She gritted her teeth as the bitter memories came tumbling back—memories of a time when he had turned his back on her. "And then all I did was to nearly die at Esthar, get into a coma, wake up, and a few weeks later, you tell me you __care, and I swallow it like a fool, because my brain wasn't thinking clearly at that time!" She pressed a delicate, fine-boned hand to her forehead. _

"And you realise all this—one year later?" Seifer demanded in disbelief. 

Quistis looked away. "Matron told me everything yesterday." She glanced at Seifer. "I think it's fair to conclude that you felt some sort of obligation—that—very well, I haven't the faintest idea how to put this, but if you think that you care—because I did—and because you feel responsible—somehow—"

Seifer's eyes flashed and he cut abruptly into what she was trying to say. "Was it true what Matron said, then? Did you really love me?" He added with grim humour, "If we're going to talk about telling the truth…"

She could lie and save her pride, or tell the truth, and suffer humiliation. But he was right. Quistis lifted her chin—and decided upon which horn of her dilemma she would impale herself.

"Yes."

"Was it out of pity for me as some kind of misunderstood human being or whatever?"

Quistis glared at him. "_Never. Damn it, I've loved you since the first time I saw you, and I was only a __child, for Hyne's sake!" She bit her lip, suddenly realising that she had let on more than she had intended._

There was a spark of triumph in Seifer's expression, but he firmly quenched it with a grim smile. "Good. Since you've been so truthful, I'll be equally truthful, and then we can both be sure where we stand." He met her gaze equably.

"I love you," he said flatly, "and it was never out of pity.  They say that sometimes you don't know what you need and love the most until it's taken away from you. I was one of those idiots. Because I didn't know how much I loved you—hell, didn't even know that I loved you—until I thought I'd never see you alive ever again." 

A muscle worked in his jaw and his eyes grew keen. "You'd given me so much of yourself," he went on softly, "but I never repaid you. Everyone else around you saw how—how beautiful you were, but I didn't let you know that I saw it as well. Because I did see it, you know. I just didn't like to let on that I did." He stopped for a moment, took a deep breath, then continued.

"I won't be able to say exactly when I fell in love with you, but I _can tell you when I knew I loved you. Because I swore I'd follow you into the dark, if you didn't want to return with me, and if Matron hadn't shaken me—I'd have followed you. If it killed me, __I'd still have followed you!" Seifer's eyes blazed. "Not out of pity, or obligation, because neither drags anyone that far—but because I __love you. Did you think I would let you go once you came back? You were dying, Quistis, when we reached you…" He swallowed. "You were dying and I was watching you die, and I couldn't do anything about it…" _

He was now very close to her, close enough to run one rough finger gently over the delicate cheek. "You didn't hear me, but I knelt by your bed when you were lying there, and I begged you to come back because I loved you—because if you died—because—" He broke off, trembling and suddenly unable to speak.

The look in those green eyes went straight to Quistis' heart. 

"I…didn't hear you…" she whispered, her voice catching a little. "…didn't know…" 

Before he could say another word, she slipped her arms around his neck and rested her head in the crook of his neck, soft lips resting precisely over the pulse beat that leapt suddenly and vividly under her touch.

Colour rushed into Seifer's face and he tightened his arms around Quistis. "Let's not talk too much…your throat needs resting, darling." 

"Mmmm." Quistis sighed a little. "But I'll still have to go back in…and I don't want to." She thought for a moment. "Do you want to go anywhere?"

Seifer shrugged. "Not really, if you aren't there." In all his life, he'd never thought he would say such soppy words to anyone, but—well—they didn't sound so soppy when he was saying them to Quistis… He cleared his throat. "We could go find a nice place and have a bite to eat instead of this finger food they insist on serving, or else we could go back in and face more congratulations and handshakes. Or else we could just order take-out. There's this nice seafood place here in Esthar…"

_Five minutes later_

The telephone rang.

"Good evening, Fish & Co., I'm Ngai, how may I help you?"

"I'd like to order home delivery. Two black pepper stingrays, two clam chowders, two line fish fillet—your catch of the day—and all with chips, please."

"Right, sir. What's the address?"

"Esthar Presidential Palace.  Just say you're delivering for Seifer Almasy."

------------------------------------------------

Well. Hi, everyone. This is Gold. When I first started this story, I intended it to be an eight chapter tale. As you can see, I overshot. -_-;;; I can never, ever write a short story, apparently. 

I just want to say thanks to everyone who took the time to read this, and review it. It was lovely reading the reviews and knowing that people out there are reading this, because I write for two purposes—one, because there's a story that burns to get out of my fingers, and two, because I know people like to read this stuff.

Like I said at the beginning of this, a friend of mine, whose critical opinion I trust, said that I could certainly write angst when it came to love and emotions, so I thought I'd try a story about nothing but angst. And here it is. :) 

I'm a romantic, but not the kind that wants sad endings. I belong to the school of happy endings and WAFF. This world is sad and tragic enough as it is, and every which way we turn, we see failed relationships, unhappy marriages, broken homes, war, destruction, tears…so when I write, I want people to be happy. I want there to be happy endings. I know many of you have cried over some of these chapters, but hey—the ending's worth it, right? ^_^       


End file.
